


Project:  Wingman

by dat_heichou



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, M/M, might be some slight references to homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3123824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dat_heichou/pseuds/dat_heichou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt was the best wingman anyone could have asked for.  As much as Jean hated to admit it, the only reason why girls gave him the time of day in high school was because of his best friend.  After graduation, Jean decides that its time to return the favor and become the best wingman his best friend deserves.<br/>No one said it would be easy though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Marco Bodt was the best wingman anyone could have asked for.  As much as Jean hated to admit it, the only reason why girls gave him the time of day in high school was because of his best friend.  Marco's charisma and sweet smile made him the most popular bachelor in the female eye.  Everyone wanted to get into his good graces, even when that meant being friendly to his occasionally obnoxious best friend.

All of Jean's dates to school dances spent more time fawning over his best friend than talking to Jean himself.  But since the two best friends were always together, it didn't seem to matter much.

The two boys met in middle school under circumstances of pure happenstance.  Marco had just moved to Trost and was determined to make friends.  When he got on the school bus on the first day of sixth grade, the first person he noticed was a scrawny boy with wayward hair and a grumpy face.  His decision to say hi to the testy boy was a tribute to his own friendly nature, if a bit random.

Jean had been determined to scare off all future drama by simply having nothing to do with his peers.  From what his sister had told him of her preteen years, there was no point in making friends before junior year of high school because they just seemed to create major fallouts and social nightmares.  What he had not expected was an unfamiliar gangly boy with freckles and a huge metallic smile to barge into his life simply by sitting next to him.

Out of all the people who rode their bus that day, Marco was the only one who bothered sitting with someone who already looked as ornery and high maintenance as they come.  Marco was also the only person who opened up Jean's mind to the idea of even making friends, let alone having a best friend.  It had taken a few weeks for Jean to completely open up to his enthusiastic seat-mate, but when he did, they were inseparable.  Together, they outgrew their braces and matured into teenagers.

Puberty dealt them both a fair hand.  Marco grew to be the larger of the two, long legs and broad shoulders his signals of adulthood.  His large brown eyes and freckles were his only physical tributes to his outgrown childhood, yet they appealed him to girls all the more.    
Jean grew less than his best friend, yet his angular features and thin waist were nonetheless considered attractive.

What made the difference in their popularity was their personalities.  Marco was open and kind to everyone and was always willing to make new friends.  Jean, on the other hand, couldn't care less about making new friends as long as his best friend was around.

If Jean had had an all around aloof personality, then he would have undoubtedly gained some form of appeal.  There are always people who are attracted to those they believe are unattainable.  But Jean had a contradictory nature.  As much as he hated keeping up social interaction, he cared about two things in his interpersonal life:  Marco and pretty girls.

Jean's combined non-social nature, ego, and girl-craziness repelled potential girlfriends like the plague.  If Marco had been one to rub his popularity with the opposite sex into his face, then their friendship would not have lasted.  Instead, Marco refused to seriously date anyone, only taking girls on awkward double dates with his best friend.

He never went on more than one date with anyone.  By senior year, even Jean had scrounged up a poorly fated relationship with an underclassman too nice for her own good.  But Marco remained single, even in the lone month that Jean was no longer romantically repellant.

After graduation and registration to be each other's college roommates at St. Sina, Jean had made up his mind to make it up to his best friend.  After years of riding on his friend's social coattails, Jean decided that college was his time to play wingman.

* * *

 

It was all Jean could do to keep his decision a secret.  He wanted to wait until their first semester started to tell Marco his plan, after they had the opportunity to meet as many of their peers as possible.  But there were times that his excitement almost got the better of him and he barely held his tongue.

Jean still hated the prospect of having to interact and talk with so many people.  But the idea of making Marco happy and return a favor to someone who had already helped him so much was thrilling.  He felt it was about time to prove that he brought something of value to their best friendship.

Jean tried to keep up a front of nonchalance in pretty much everything he did, but secretly tried much too hard in everything.  His wingman ambition was no different, which is why he found himself examining Marco's Facebook friends list one Thursday afternoon.  For every girl with a single relationship status, Jean jotted a note down in a word document.  He would have felt creepy if these notes were for his personal use, but since they were for Marco, he didn't mind doing it. 

After two weeks on campus, it looked like the best options were between a smiley brunette named Sasha and a petite blonde named Krista. 

As the room door handle turned, Jean quickly saved his notes and switched back to his newsfeed.  It was no fun if Marco found out Jean's plans early.  It would be even worse if he saw Jean's notes and took them out of context.

"Hey, man.  How was class?"

Marco simply flashed him a smile before dropping his bag on the ground and flopping face-down on his bed.

"Mentally drained?" Jean laughed as Marco snorted in agreement, his bangs fluttering slightly with the small rush of air.

Marco turned his head to face him, his cheeks tinged red from being pressed against the bed sheets.  "It was good, but I'm so tired.  Sasha invited me to get dinner with her but I'm too tired to go."

"You should totally do it.  Since when do you turn down girls on a date?"  Jean smiled, trying to keep his excitement at a normal level.

Marco's cheeks reddened further.  "It’s not a date.  Her friends are going.  And she said I can invite people too."  He leaned up on his elbows to flash Jean a sheepish grin.  "We're going to the local pizza place if you want to come."

Jean's stomach growled in response.

"That's a yes," Marco laughed, hauling himself off the bed to restyle his hair in the mirror.

Jean refrained from commenting that his main motivation was to see if Marco was interested in anyone in the dining group.  Instead he raised his eyebrows over Marco's shoulder in the mirror.  "Are you sure it’s not a date?  That's a lot of effort to put into your hair."

Marco stuck his tongue out at him in the mirror.  "Well we can't all look good with chronic bed head."

"Excuse you; I put effort into this level of dishevelment."

Marco simply hummed with a light smirk on his face.  "So are you going to put effort into your outfit too or just going in your pajama pants?"

 

 

The pizza place was small and cozy with low lighting.  The cheap prices made it popular with college students, and even on a weeknight the place was packed.

Sasha had claimed the largest table in the place and upon seeing the large group of friends around her (hey, five people seem like a large group when you don't know any of them), it took all of Jean's self control to keep him from turning around to go back to the dorm.

Marco glanced at him concernedly, "We can always leave early if you feel overwhelmed, okay?"

Jean dredged up a smile that was approximately 87% bravado. "I'm sure I'll be okay."

They ended up sitting towards the end of the table.  Detrimentally to Jean's plans, Marco was seated nowhere near the girl that invited him.  In fact, Marco directed most of his attention to Jean himself, not something the blonde would complain about except under his current matchmaking ambitions.  Luckily enough, Sasha herself instigated conversation the boys' way.

"So is this the best friend you've told us about?" Sasha asked, observing Jean with curious eyes.  As he felt more interested gazes prickle on him from around the table, Jean internally crossed off what had seemed to be an instance of good luck.  Jean loved attention, but only in circumstances he felt comfortable in. Now, he had willingly infiltrated a pack of strangers and their attention made him feel like he was on display.

Marco chuckled and nodded confirmation while squeezing Jean's knee under the table.  He knew how social anxiety made his friend freeze sometimes and the physical contact was enough to make Jean break out of his deer-in-the-headlights look and take in a shaky breath.

"Yeah.  Jean Kirstein at your service."  No better way to cover up social anxiety than through a show of cocky overconfidence, right?  Maybe this was exactly why Jean didn't have many friends.

At the mention of his name, the guy next to Sasha perked up.  "Hey, aren't you in my Calc class?"

Jean looked at him appraisingly. The buzz-cut did ring a bell.  "Yeah, I think so.  Carl, right?"

At that, everyone at the table burst into laughter.  Jean's shoulders drooped and he started eyeing the door.  He came here to find Marco a potential girlfriend, not get laughed at by a bunch of strangers.

"Keep him around Marco.  He's funny," Sasha beamed, thumping a hand against buzz-cut's back.  Isn't that right, _Carl_?"

Buzz-cut laughed and gave Jean a wide grin.  "Well its pretty close.  The name's Connie, but you can call me Carl if I can call you John."

Jean wrinkled his nose in distaste and laughter started up again.  He didn't know what to make of the pair but at the very least they seemed to be overall harmless.

At the end of the night, Jean was exhausted and still had little clues as to how Marco felt about Sasha.  To be honest, he wondered if Connie and Sasha were interested in each other.  They certainly didn't have the sickening couple-y vibe that Hannah and Franz had going at their end of the table, but then again the latter two were the most mushy gushy romantic couple that Jean had ever met.  He sincerely hoped that when he got Marco his girlfriend, they wouldn't act like that. 

While Marco was busy getting ready for bed, Jean opened his laptop to put some new details in his matchmaking notes.  To his surprise, he had two new notifications on Facebook.  Friend requests from Sasha and Connie.  Jean hit the accept button, seeing no problem with their addition to his newsfeed.  He figured it was probably good:  it might give more insight to their relationship to each other, plus he wouldn't feel as creepy when he looked at Sasha's relationship status.

When he checked Facebook the next day to find an unimaginable amount of notifications, Jean began to regret his decision.  Sasha and Connie had stalked his profile to like and comment on _every_ single picture that he and Marco had been tagged in together. They liked the photos from move in day.  They cooed over how handsome the boys looked in their prom pictures and how pretty their dates were.  They found the photos from the dark ages before Jean's growth spurt; back when didn’t even come up to Marco's shoulders.  Jean covered his face and groaned when he read the comment:  "Look, Jean used to be Connie-sized."

Oh lord, they even found the pictures his sister tagged him in from when he lost to her in a bet during his freshmen year of high school.  His price for losing was to have her test her options for her prom makeup.... on him.  The worst part was, she made him actually look pretty and even Marco had awkwardly agreed that all the different styles looked good on Jean.  Jean liked to pretend that photographic evidence of this trauma didn't exist and certainly forgot that he was tagged in it.  In the comments, people argued over which choice Hitch should go with in between surprised comments that "wow your baby brother looks good." 

As he scrolled through to the last picture of his torture, he felt an acute sense of betrayal when he saw that Marco had liked it.  The photo had the two of them in it, with Jean pouting and trying to avert his rouged cheeks from both the camera and his best friend.  Marco looked at him with a shy smile and a heavy red tinge over his own cheeks.  The caption made Jean groan again.  His darling sister had written, "Jean doesn't like it when you call him pretty."

If that wasn't bad enough, this was also the picture that Connie and Sasha decided to comment on the most.

 **Sasha Braus:**   You two were like the cutest, most precious things ever

 **Connie Springer:**   that pout really shows off your lipstick jean

 **Sasha Braus:**   You shouldn't have been so embarrassed.  Guys can look really hot in make up.  And you would totally rock it ;)

 **Connie Springer:** marco obviously thinks so ;)

Jean ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  It looked like he had another reason to dread going to calculus.

 

* * *

 

The shit-eating grin that greeted Jean as he walked into the classroom proved his earlier concerns right.  Angrily he stormed over to take the seat next to Connie.  "Was the Facebook stalking really necessary?" he hissed.

Connie's grin didn't diminish at the confrontation.  If anything it grew larger.  "Aww come on.  It was fun.  Besides, you guys were adorable."

Jean sighed and dropped his head to the desk in frustration.

"How long have you and Marco known each other anyway?"

Jean perked up cautiously at the seemingly innocent question.  Deeming it relatively safe, he answered "Sixth grade" before hiding his face in his arms again.

"Damn, that's a long time," Connie whistled.  "I bet there are even better pictures of you guys that aren't on Facebook."

The glare Jean gave him made Connie laugh.  "Would you forgive me if I warned you that Sasha wants to do your makeup now?"

The glare only intensified and Connie continued.  "Marco already said that you wouldn't agree to it and offered to be her makeup guinea pig if that would get you off the hook."

At this, Jean finally stopped glaring and let out a sigh instead.  "That idiot," he mumbled.

"Yeah," Connie agreed, "She won't be satisfied with just one of you now.  She wants the set."

"Well why don't you let her do your makeup?" Jean grumbled under his breath as more students straggled into the classroom.

"Hey man, if she can give me some dark and handsome eyeliner I'll volunteer."

Jean was mulling it over as the professor walked into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Even when class ended, he couldn't get away from Connie.  To quote him, "Jean had made friends with him and Sasha whether he liked it or not."  With that, Connie grabbed Jean by the arm and pulled him toward the cafeteria.

"Well friends I don't mind," Jean grumbled around his burger, "but you guys freaking Facebook stalked me the day after we met."

Connie just shrugged and dipped a French fry in ketchup.  "It’s not that weird.  A lot of people do it; they just aren't upfront about it."

Jean hummed in agreement at that.  Considering his Facebook stalking in the name of research, he couldn't give them too hard a time over it.

"Besides," Connie continued after eating another fry, "It sorta made you open up to us quickly.  Yesterday, we didn't see any of the snarky sarcasm that Marco had told us about.  Your attitude is one way to see that you're letting down your defenses."

"Just what has Marco told you about me?"  Jean couldn't help but be curious.  With their different majors, this was the first time that they had really hung out with different groups of people.  What Marco told people about him while he wasn't there usually wasn't something he could find out.

"Just that you've been best friends for years.  He told us some stories that had you in them.  Like when you guys were on the basketball team in high school and you started a fight off-court with some giant on a rival team."

Jean took an angry drink of water before he answered, feeling the need to defend his young and perhaps childish actions.  "He tripped Marco and no one called it!  Someone had to teach him a lesson!"

"Yes, smarty pants, I'm sure your black eye taught him such a great lesson."  Connie rolled his eyes and Jean flushed.  "But yeah, he said that you always looked out for him and tried to protect him because he was 'too soft.'"  He looked appraisingly at Jean for a moment.  "I figured you'd be taller, but you certainly do seem to have the right attitude to be Marco's keeper."

Jean hid his face behind his hands.  "So Marco tells people about the stupid things I've done.  That's great."

Connie laughed.  "Well, he said it was heroically stupid, if that makes you feel any better.  And," his eyes glinted devilishly, "Now you can get back at him by telling me the stupid things he's done."

And that was how Jean spent the next hour telling Connie stories of how on several occasions, Jean had returned home to find Marco on his couch, crying over Hallmark movies with his mom.

It had never occurred to Jean that Connie might have had ulterior motives.  Like buying Sasha time.

When they got back to Jean's dorm room, he realized that he should have been more skeptical.  There was a rather large makeup bag resting on the floor beside Marco's desk chair.  From the doorway, all Jean could see of his roommate were his long legs that spread out from behind Sasha, who was seated in his chair. 

At the sound of the door opening, Sasha flashed a huge grin at the two boys in the doorway.  "Ooh you made it!  But don't come in yet guys, I have to finish up first."

Jean closed the door and turned back to glare at Connie.  "Was this your plan all along?"

Connie stretched his arms behind his head, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.  "Well yeah.  But I also got to have a nice conversation with you too, man.  Come on, you have to agree it was fun."

Jean sighed, briefly considering if he would feel guilty for leaving Marco to their mercy if he left now.  He'd like to think that it was his loyalty that kept him around, but his curiosity was also a contributing factor.  Connie smirked, as though he could sense Jean's internal debate.

"Okay guys, you can come in!"

Jean sighed again, leading Connie into the room.  
Sasha greeted them happily, keeping Marco turned away from the door.  "Okay, is everyone ready?"

Connie whooped and Jean nodded.  When he saw Marco's face, he was caught by surprise.

"See guys, makeup doesn't have to be bright and overt to do its job."  She was right; her color selections blended well with his skin tone.  The thin, delicately placed eyeliner made his eyes look large and bright and brought out the golden flecks in his brown eyes.

Marco blushed at the close scrutiny of his face and scratched at the back of his head awkwardly.  The silence in the room made him blush even harder and when he locked eyes with Jean, the blonde swallowed awkwardly as well.  "What do you guys think?" Marco asked shyly while averting his eyes.

"Me next, Sasha!" Connie exclaimed, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Make me sexy like Marco!"

Marco blushed and raised his hand to his cheeks, looking down at the ground in embarrassment.

"Okay," Sasha chirped, "as long as Jean sticks around for his turn."  Connie sat down eagerly, watching Sasha dig through her bag of cosmetic magic.

While the two rambunctious ones were engaged with Sasha's makeup bag, Jean sat on his bed and patted the spot next to him for Marco.  As he sat down, Marco glanced over shyly.  "So... does it really look okay?"

Jean looked back at him and their eyes locked. He forgot to answer for a minute, caught by his best friend's large, newly highlighted eyes.  The silence made Marco frown, obviously taking Jean's hesitance as an attempt to create a white lie to comfort him.  "Its good," Jean answered hurriedly, "not pretty, but like... really nice."  His word vomit drew a chuckle out of his best friend and Jean took in a deep breath to try to start again.  "I mean, have you seen yourself yet?"

Marco shook his head and Jean pulled out his cell, turning on the front-facing camera to give to Marco.  "Oh," the brunette breathed, examining himself in the screen as his lips curled up in a smile.

"See," Jean leaned over to peek at Marco's image, "It looks good."

He barely caught the widening of Marco's grin as he pressed the camera button before the screen flashed.  After a few seconds, the photo popped back up, with Marco grinning a wide smile to match his bright eyes while Jean looked over his shoulder.

"Hey!" Jean laughed while Marco held the phone down to send the picture to himself.

"Evidence of me looking good with my bestie," Marco grinned.  "Always necessary, even if through sneaky methods."

Jean ran a hand through his messy hair, "Well I'm glad one of us looked good."

"Are you gonna let Sasha do you, too?"  Marco's bright eyes almost seemed to sparkle and Jean lost all argument against him.

"Fine."

The squeals from the other side of the room reminded Jean of the others present and made him realize just whose hands he had placed himself into.  She was done with Connie's face, and he certainly looked good.  But the devilish grin Sasha aimed Jean's way scared him.  It was rather reminiscent to Hitch's face from before his first makeup job.

Before he could change his mind, she had already grabbed his arm and pulled him down to sit on the floor in front of her.

"Oh goody, you have fun angles to highlight.  I haven't been able to experiment with an angular face before!"

Unease was returning to Jean, but he knew enough to sit still and let her work. 

Finally, what felt like hours later, Sasha said he could get up.  He looked over at the two guys on his bed, who were still taking silly selfies with _his_ phone. (He and Marco knew each other's lock codes, so it wasn't that surprising.  But still, why was _Connie_ using his phone?  That's the one he didn't trust.)

"Why don't you guys use your own phones?" Jean questioned as he crossed his arms, bringing their attention to him for the first time since he had sat down.

Their silly grins froze on their faces when they looked at him and Jean's blood ran cold.  Had Sasha messed up?  Did he end up looking like Hitch again?

Connie recovered first, waving his phone in front of him.  "I sent the pictures to me and Sasha so you'd have our numbers.  And you even have contact pictures.  Well for me at least."  He gestured to Sasha and she jumped onto his bed next to Connie, grinning while he snapped a selfie of the two of them.  "Now you have one for Sasha too."

"'Kay then." Jean replied, holding out his hand for his phone.  Instead of giving his phone back, Sasha once again grabbed him and pulled him down onto the bed where the others were sitting.  As he landed on his back, Jean made a mental note to never underestimate her physical strength again.

Marco seemed to return to reality, worriedly checking to see if Jean was okay.

"Yeah, man, I'm okay.  What about you?  It looked like you had seen a ghost or something?  What is it?  Do I look like Hitch again?"

"No," Marco blushed and looked away again, "I was just surprised by how well it suits you."

"Come on, Jean; join the selfie party," Connie leaned between them, snapping a few pictures on Jean's phone and passing it back to Jean to look at (but not before sending the new pictures to himself, Sasha, and Marco).  To be fair to Marco and Connie, Jean could barely recognize himself either.  His angular face looked sharper, manlier almost.  His amber eyes were surrounded by thick liner, which flowed with the brown eye-shadow to lead down to the contours of his face.  All blemishes had been covered and for the first time, Jean could almost bring himself to forgive them for their underhanded approach to doing it.  He looked good.

"Alright, Sasha, I admit.  You're good at this."  She beamed and hopped off the bed.

"Okay guys, since we're all looking hot, let’s go out on the town!" She chirped.  "We're young, it’s a Friday, let’s go out!"

"Where do you have in mind?" Marco asked with wide eyes while Jean started to wonder if this was what she had had in mind the whole time.

"There's a party that the sports dorm is throwing tonight!"  Yep, this was definitely her plan all along.  "Come on, guys!"  Her puppy-dog eyes were almost as effective as Marco's.  As they reluctantly agreed, Jean wondered if Marco had mentioned how easily manipulated by sad eyes he was, or if it was just another highly used tool in Sasha's repertoire.

Sasha and Connie left to change before meeting back up in the lobby of their building.  It was after they left that Marco asked if Jean was okay with the plan.  Thinking about the crowds of people that would inevitably be there made him uneasy, but as he combed his hair and threw on his best jeans, he felt a newfound flash of confidence.  "I think I can do this," he grinned.

Marco smiled back from where he was changing into his favorite red shirt. "You should wear that jacket Hitch got you for your last birthday."

Jean wordlessly slipped it off the clothes hanger and over his shoulders.  "We ready to go?"

The party was crowded, but Jean was too busy laughing at Sasha and Connie’s antics to be too overwhelmed.  Besides, girls were starting to looktheir way and he was ready to try and earn his (non-realized) wingman status.  He glanced over at a table covered by unopened cans.  Well, maybe after some liquid courage, he would be.

He slipped away to help himself, like he had seen others do.  He popped the tab and choked over his first sip.  Beer didn't agree with him, but as Hitch had taught him, about a can was all he needed to be buzzed enough to talk to people.  Well actually half a can, but he didn't have his sister there to finish up his can before they headed off to family gatherings.

He gulped down another swallow as someone in a St. Sina’s football jersey approached him.  "Yo, pass me a beer."  Jean grabbed one and did so, only to notice the guy was staring at him. 

"Are you wearing makeup?" the football player hissed in surprise.  Jean's blood chilled and his heart rate picked up.  He had been afraid someone was going to call him out on it and he wasn't drunk enough to laugh it off and he had learned his lesson about not picking a fight with guys bigger than him and the last thing he wanted was to be clocked by public safety for starting a fight and--

A large hand clapped onto Jean's shoulder as Marco leaned over him.  While the other guy was muscular, he wasn't very tall so Marco was capable of looming over him, creating a shadow that even Jean found a bit intimidating.

"And?" Marco inquired, his voice sounding surprisingly deep.  "He looks good, doesn't he?"

The guy paled and stammered a yes before rushing off.  Jean looked up to try and see what kind of expression Marco had had to scare this guy off, but the taller boy distracted his attention by slipping his beer out of his hand to finish it himself.

"Hey," Jean growled, "get your own."

Whatever expression Marco had had before, it was long gone as he grinned over the can.  "I promised Hitch I would limit your intake.  We both remember what happened at that family picnic a few years ago."

Jean frowned as Marco crumpled the metal can in his hand before giving it back to him.  "But you weren't there."

Jean tossed the can into the trash can on the other side of the table.  A drunken cheer broke out as he made the basket, but he barely paid it any heed as Marco continued.  "Hitch showed me the video.  You tried to reenact Marilyn Monroe's rendition of Happy Birthday Mr. President and gave your grandmother a strip tease while singing happy birthday."

"There's a video?!"

Jean was distracted by a gaggle of girls that had surrounded them, holding an empty can in each hand.  "Hi," they giggled, "we were wondering if you could do some more trick shots." 

Adrenaline pumped through Jean’s veins as he smirked at them, "Jean Kirstein, sharp shooter of Trost High School, at your service."

Marco simply laughed as the girls handed him the cans to crumple up.

 

* * *

 

Jean didn't quite know how he went from shooting baskets (he made them all, thank you very much) to cuddling on the couch with a bunch of girls. And Marco.  A cuddly Marco.  Some of the girls had slipped him full cans for him to empty and crumple for Jean to toss.  It seemed to be getting to him, as Marco leaned his head on Jean's shoulder.

"Tired, buddy?"  Jean rolled his shoulder only to get a tired moan in response.  The girls giggled from where they were curled against Marco’s side, offering to let him stay the night in their beds.  Marco just groaned again and tucked his face into the crook of Jean's neck. The blonde tried not to notice that a few of the girls were trying to sneak pictures of the two of them.

"Sorry ladies, I should probably get him back to his dorm."  They let out a few disappointed groans as he heaved his best friend up to his feet, trying not to stumble over his friend's limp weight.  A tall blonde with bushy sideburns hurried over to help; slipping an arm around Marco's other side.

"You guys played basketball for Trost, right?"  He asked.  When Jean grunted a positive response, he continued, "Are you guys going to join the team for St. Sina's?"

"Depends, when do we need to try out?"

"Well official practices don't start 'til the spring semester, but we like to have our team picked out before everyone goes home for break."

"I'll talk it over with the big guy when he sobers up."  Jean tipped his head in a gesture toward the semi-awake person in between them, causing the person in question to sigh and burrow his face close to his neck again.

How they got Marco up the stairs was a struggle neither guy wanted to relive.  Considering sideburns dude stuck around until Jean plopped Marco onto his bed, Jean figured he definitely needed to give the guy a decent answer.  "What's your name, basketball dude? And who do we go to if we want to try out after all?"

"I'm Thomas Wagner," he smiled, excited that his impromptu scouting mission had seemed to be going well.  "And the coach you go to is Coach Shadis.  He’s a bit harsh sometimes, but that makes us a good team."

"Well, I'll let you know what we decide, Thomas."  Jean cracked a tired smile before gesturing at his slumbering roommate and excusing himself from the conversation.

After pulling off Marco's shoes and propping him up on his side with an open water bottle within reach (experience with Hitch had prepared him for taking care of people who had been drinking), Jean fired off a few texts to Connie and Sasha (he chuckled to see that they had saved themselves under 'Sexy Springer' and 'Bamf Braus' in his phone).  When they replied to say that they had made it back to their dorms safely, Jean finally curled up in his own bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Jean had forgotten about the makeup.  He quickly remembered it the next morning as he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes only to be greeted by a streak of black.

He quickly sat up and groaned as he looked in the mirror.  He looked like a raccoon.  When he glanced over toward Marco's bed, he couldn't help but chuckle when he saw that his roommate didn't fare much better.  Sasha had put the darkest makeup on Jean, so he probably looked the worst, but even Marco's previously fine, meticulously placed lines had been smeared up past his left eyebrow.

His laughter roused the sleeping teenager, who gave him a bleary glare that quickly lost effect when combined with the mess on his face.  "Can you keep it down?  I--"  Marco stopped mid grumble to open his eyes again, "What the hell happened to your face?"

Jean nearly fell off the bed as he started laughing even harder.  "We forgot to wash the makeup off last night," he gasped out between laughs, "You don't look much better."

At this news, Marco frowned and patted at his face, only to frown deeper when streaks of eyeliner came off on his hands.

"How you feeling?"

"Not too bad.  Hungry though."

"Well a shower and then getting breakfast at the cafeteria sounds in order, then."

After spending extra time scrubbing at their faces in the hall showers, Jean happened to check his phone before they got ready to leave the dorm.  The flood of new texts surprised him.

 **Sexy Springer:** dude people are talking about u 2 all over fb

 **Bamf Braus:** I think you guys are on youtube or something

 **Bamf Braus:**   also me and Connie added your sister on facebook.  She seems rlly cool.

 **Hitch the bitch:**   I like your new friends sweetie ;) You and darling Marco have been having a grand ol time, I see. Don't worry, I totes wont tell mom bout the drinking

 **Sexy Springe** r:  join us for breakfast in 30 min or sash may not leave any food in the caf

"Jeannnn, let's food," Marco flopped dramatically onto his bed next to him, his wet hair dripping onto blue sheets.

"In a minute, I think I need to check Facebook first."

"Jeannnnnnnnn.  My stomach is digesting meeeeeeee."

"Holy shit."

Marco perked up and peeked over Jean's shoulder, "What's wrong?  What the?"

If Jean had thought that Sasha and Connie had left him a lot of notifications the day before, then the ones he found now were unimaginable.  Not only had Sasha posted all of the makeup pictures from the night before and tagged them in it, Hitch had liked ALL of them and started congratulating Sasha on both her application and ability to con Jean into agreeing (no wonder they had started talking), and Jean had friend requests.  A shit ton of friend requests.  He guessed some of them were the girls from the party, and there was that Thomas dude he talked to.  But a lot of them he didn't recognize.  Then he saw that Connie had tagged him in a post.  Some guy named Reiner took a video of him shooting baskets and posted it.  The number of likes, comments, and shares pretty much ensured that even the half of campus that wasn't at the party had seen it.

"Wow.... Can we go get food now?" Marco's tired whine finally got Jean to close his laptop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, Connie seems to have the common sense that Jean lacks.

All Connie and Sasha wanted to talk about was the aftermath of the party.  Frankly, Marco didn't want to talk about anything.  Instead, he took large bites of his pancakes and shot angry glares at Jean for delaying their quest for food.  Not many people expected it, but Marco was not a morning person. Before breakfast, his grumpiness rivaled Jean's on an average day, but with a slight hangover he had a shorter fuse.  After setting his food down, Jean left Connie and Sasha to talk at a nonresponsive Marco while he left in search of coffee. 

Jean wasn't much of a morning person either, but it didn't necessarily make him grumpier than usual.  Still, without his coffee, he found himself nodding off at inopportune times and zoning out.  When he rejoined his friends at the table, he set down a chai tea in front of Marco while he sat down with his own coffee.  Marco eyed the peace offering for a minute before picking it up. "You are forgiven."

There was snorting from across the table as Sasha and Connie tried to hold back their laughter.  Jean couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but Sasha had picked out one of the small tables closest to the windows.  Bright sunlight streamed in, antagonizing Marco’s hangover and further fouling his mood.  Once Jean sat down, the back of his head ended up blocking the sun slightly, removing the sharp lighting across freckled cheeks.  His best friend let out a soft sigh of relief and took a sip of his tea.

“Who would have expected Marco to be a morning grump?” Sasha giggled.  Marco raised an eyebrow menacingly in her direction but otherwise was too occupied by his tea to respond. 

“So…” Connie’s deviousness lit up his face like a firecracker, “I heard you guys were quite the athletes.  Did you get any invites to some special one-on-one games last night?”  He leaned across the table toward them, eager for some gossip.  

Jean sighed, unimpressed by Connie’s “tact” in asking the question.  He wouldn’t have bothered answering or even reacting to the statement had he not noticed his friend’s reaction.  It was Marco’s pink cheeks and curious glance sideward that made Jean choke on his coffee.

“Woah, Marco!”  Sasha leaned dangerously far over the table to more closely examine the blush spreading across his cheeks.  “Do tell.  Did our little freckle buddy get lucky?”  Jean shifted in his seat, concern about her word selection inkling into his mind.  _Please tell me she’s talking about Marco himself and not naming his dick,_ he thought.

Under her intense gaze, Marco’s cheeks grew redder and more closely resembled strawberries.  Jean leaned his elbows against the table while reappraising his removal of Sasha from the list of Marco’s possible romantic candidates.  Perhaps there was more going on than he thought.

“We went back to our room without any action, guys.  Leave him alone,” Jean admitted, crossing his arms and watching the condition of Marco’s blush as Sasha sat back down in disappointment.  Instead of lessening, his blush raged even brighter as she moved away from close proximity.

Marco scratched his nose and laughed shyly.  “Well that’s good to hear because to be honest, I don’t remember how I got back last night.” 

Connie’s face quickly fell from amusement to concern; his bite of pancake paused halfway to his mouth.  “Dude, if you’re drinking ‘til you pass out, then that’s really unsafe.”

Marco’s cheeks reddened further in obvious shame and Jean felt the need to step in.  “He didn’t drink that much, he just got drowsy and fell asleep on my shoulder.”  A slight scoff fell across Jean’s lips as he tilted his head in challenge, “Like I would let him get that sloshed while I was there.”

Marco’s downcast eyes made the smirk fall off Jean’s face as his best friend asked worriedly, “So nothing weird happened last night, Jean?”  He peered under his lashes as he looked up for reassurance and Jean’s heart pounded.  _What on earth was Marco so concerned about?_

“No.  Some guy tried to recruit us to the basketball team, but that was it.”

Sasha pouted, crossing her arms, “So you guys became overnight sensations without us?  No fair! We were only watching the drunk guys play night Frisbee for like fifteen minutes!”

 _Long enough for us to not see you for the rest of the night_ , Jean thought, seriously wondering how on earth they hadn’t come across each other at some point.

Marco leaned his head heavily against the table, sighing.  “I don’t know about Jean, but for me, I say you guys can go out and try to be sensations without us.  My head is still killing me.”  He rose a hand to rub his temple, as if silently willing the pain away.

Sasha leaned over the table again and gently ran her fingers through his hair, murmuring in sympathy.  Jean saw no reason to argue with Marco’s logic.   _After all,_ Jean thought while watching her card fingers through his best friend’s hair, _Marco’s future girlfriend might be right here._

* * *

 

The rest of the day promoted Marco’s attitude as he continued to nurse his pounding head and attempt to get some work done at the same time.

Jean couldn’t care less about going to another party.  Sure, the female attention had been great, but the sheer amount of social anxiety he fell victim to at the start of the party hadn’t made it quite worth it.

Later, Jean told Connie as much.  The two of them had decided to go for a walk around campus to stretch their legs.  Jean was trying to get out of the room long enough to let Marco nap undisturbed and Connie was bored because Sasha had a meeting with classmates that she had to get to.  When told this information, Connie simply shrugged. “I figured.  You guys are sorta a package deal, aren’t you?”

Jean raised an eyebrow at that.  “You spend too much time talking to my sister or something?  That sounds like something she would say.”

“Well even if I didn’t, it isn’t that hard to see that where one of you goes, the other follows.”

“You and Sasha are like that too!”  Jean wasn’t sure why he was feeling so defensive.  The implications in Connie’s voice made Jean stand taller and cross his arms in front of his chest, as if they could protect him from verbal attack. 

Connie glanced up at him with pointed eyes.  “And?”  At least one of them had the guts to call the other out on their tone.  He started walking ahead, forcing Jean to keep moving forward.

After taking a few long strides to catch back up (Connie’s legs were shorter than his but his pace had gotten surprisingly quick), Jean uncrossed his arms and shoved them in his pants pockets.  “Actually man, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jean swallowed, curious but at the same time cautious.  As obnoxious as the two could be, it was rare for Jean to feel so comfortable with new people so quickly.   _If I’m not careful here then I might lose both of the new friends I happened to get,_ he cautioned himself as he carefully selected his words.  “Are you and Sasha _possibly_ more than friends?”

Connie’s thin eyebrows rose, surprised by the question.  Jean held his breath slightly as tension settled between his shoulder blades, waiting to see if his friend had taken offence.  Instead the shorter boy simply shrugged.  “It would be a lie to say I wasn’t interested.”  He was so matter of fact about the confession that no color raised to his cheeks.  “But if she’s not then I’m perfectly happy with the way things are now, you know?  We’ve become really close and it’s not worth throwing that away.”  A wry smile graced his lips as he glanced over at his nervous friend.  “We only met at orientation weekend, you know.  We don’t have years of friendship under our belts to help us get through this sorta thing.”

They were approaching the campus pond and its surrounding glade of trees.  A breeze blew past and rattled the branches, creating a halo of bright sunshine around Connie’s open face.

Jean nodded, surprised with his friend’s calm way of expressing these feelings.  Before he noticed the lifting corners of Connie’s mouth, his devious friend was already shifting the topic as the branches finally settled shadows fell across his face once more.

“So… what about you and Marco?  Anybody you’re interested in?”  Connie had started skipping ahead toward the bridge that crossed the pond, his back to Jean as he thought out an honest answer.

“For me, no,” Jean shrugged.  “I’m too much of an ass for relationships to last long and frankly, I don’t feel like dealing with that shit right now.”

Connie opened his mouth to object and Jean cut him off.  “Look, don’t try and sugar coat shit, that’s Marco’s job.”

Connie laughed incredulously, “Actually dude, I was just going to say that you’re not _that much_ of a dick.”  He grinned up at Jean playfully, “If you were, then I don’t think Marco would have stuck by you all these years.  Much less sugar coat shit.”  He stretched and threw his arms up behind his head.  “Even Marco’s not _that_ nice.”

Everyone knew Marco was a sweetheart, but he’d only been accused of being a push-over once.  After that, people quickly learned that tall athletes can definitely stand up for themselves, even if they had the nature of a teddy bear.

Jean sighed and leaned against the railing of the bridge, stopping to find solace in the calm water.  “You’d think I’d know that.  I do and I trust Marco’s judgment, but I still feel like he gives me too much credit, you know?”

Connie simply looked up at Jean, for once his face straightforward and serious as he rested his back against the rail beside him.  “You need to have a better self-image before you date anyone anyway.  We see you, but you seem to see this demon version of yourself.”

Jean snorted haughtily and rolled his eyes.  “You and Sash have known me for what, a few days?  How would you know if I was really as bad as I see myself?”

He had expected Connie to laugh or at least crack a smile, but his short friend’s face was just as serious as it had been before.

“We’re good judges of character.  Besides, _we_ trust Marco.”

Jean slumped forward against the metal rail, staring deeper into the water.  Somehow this conversation had gone south fast.  He felt Connie’s hand on his back in a vague comforting motion.  He sighed again.

A sudden slap on the back caught him mid-sigh and he choked on it, turning it into a fit of coughs instead.  The few people on the bridge stopped to give him a concerned glance as they walked past.  “Enough of this sad and serious shit about you.  Let’s do something fun.”

When Jean could breathe again, his coughing turned into a bout of laughter.  Connie sure knew how to draw people out of self-pity-parties.

“You’re considering joining the basketball team, right?  Let’s practice some one-on-one and see what you’re made of.”

* * *

 

Sweat adhered Jean’s green t-shirt to his chest as he laid on the grass beside the basketball court gasping for air.

Jean had really underestimated Connie.  Yes he could be a major goof, but he also knew when to be serious and that was an important balance.  Plus, he knew exactly what Jean needed to work himself out of his funk.

They had been lucky that the outside rec courts were empty, even on a Saturday.  The sport teams that used the outside courts hadn’t started practices yet and the teams that had were busy in the muscle room inside.

“How on earth do you move so fast?”  Jean panted between words.  His lungs were pumping for air and his limbs were exhausted, but the adrenaline in his system felt oh so good.

“It’s a good thing I can,” Connie wheezed, “otherwise it wouldn’t have even been close.”  He was in a similar state of physical exhaustion in the grass beside Jean.  He peeled off his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.  “Except now that you’ve won, Mr. Ungodly Aim, you have to join the team.”

Jean sighed, watching the clouds pass by overhead.  “I’ve missed this feeling.”

Connie hummed in agreement.  “So if you were a small forward, what position did Marco play?”

“He was our center.  He wasn’t the tallest center we’ve ever seen, but he’s really good at being on the defensive side of things.  He’s rather offensive about his defense, if that makes sense.”

Connie hummed again then asked, “Do you think he’ll want to join, too?”

“I hope so,” Jean sighed again, this time out of pure nostalgia as he thought back on some of their best games.  “It would be weird playing without him.  We started playing together back in middle school.  It’s nice having a center that you trust that much.”

“Well if I decide to try out, then I’d have your back too.”

Jean smiled at Connie, surprised at how much those words meant to him.  He suddenly realized that he had never had a close friend besides Marco.  Even the other guys on the basketball team were more seasonal than true friends.  It was actually really nice to see how quickly he and Connie had connected as friends.  Sasha too, if he could figure out if he should risk their budding friendship by trying to hook her up with Marco.

Jean’s smile fell slightly as realization struck:  _Oh shit, Connie likes her!  That could be a problem too_.

Jean heaved a heavy sigh that disrupted the peaceful post-workout atmosphere.  Connie groaned with effort as he rolled onto his side and propped his upper body up with one arm.  He glared at the concern on Jean’s face.  “What happened with dropping the serious shit, huh?”

Jean forced himself to laugh, “No, it’s just… I’ve been thinking… have you ever wanted to repay a favor to someone but later realize that it’s so much harder and more complicated than you first thought?”

“I guess so, but it’s hard to agree with anything when you’re being purposely vague as hell.”

Jean heaved a heavy sigh, “Well, look.  If I tell you about this, you have to promise not to tell anyone.  Not Sasha.  Not Marco.  No one.”

Connie’s eyes sparkled mischievously.  “So I get secret privileges now?  Oh shit.”  Curiosity spread across his features, “So if its something not even Marco can know, does that mean that he’s the one you’re trying to repay?  What on earth do you think you owe him?  Your firstborn?”

 _Keeping this a secret from him probably wouldn’t have lasted very long anyway,_ Jean reasoned, _he’s really good at guessing what’s going on_.

Jean folded his hands together against his chest as he answered, plucking his words carefully. “Well… Marco used his popularity to help me get dates to homecoming and prom and stuff… So I was hoping to try and help him find someone.  Since he never went on more than casual dates in high school.”

A frown had fallen on Connie’s face and he looked contemplative.

“He’s not shy.”

“No.”

“Everyone likes him.”

“Yeah.”

With each statement, Connie’s eyebrows had lowered slightly and now they turned his expression into a slight glare.  “You haven’t talked to him about this idea, have you?"

“Nope.”

“Is this really necessary?  I feel like if Marco seriously wanted to date someone he would.  I mean, maybe he doesn’t want to date anyone.  Or there’s no one he’s interested in.”

Jean pouted, “But I want to show him that he’s the best and deserves the best and I want to help him find the best.  I want to prove I’m a good friend, too.”

Connie quirked an eyebrow at the statement. “Look man, you prove you’re a good friend everyday.  Marco tells us how you’re such a good friend all the time.  You practically carried him home last night.”

Jean pursed his lips defiantly as if to say that it wasn’t enough.

Connie sighed and pulled himself up to a seated position with his knees bent in front of him.  Jean was surprisingly childish and while it was cute he wanted to help Marco, Connie couldn’t help but think Jean’s unguided plans had the risk of going horribly wrong. 

“Look man, I’ll help you.”  His eye’s narrowed, “Even if it means setting up Sasha and Marco.”  When Jean’s eyes widened in surprise, Connie exclaimed and pointed at him as if to prove a point, “Dude, don’t think you’re slick!  I could tell what you were thinking.  And Marco will too, so I’ll only help if you talk to him about it.”

Jean opened his mouth to complain, but Connie cut him off.  “Look man, to be a good wingman, you don’t set the guy up indiscriminately.  You help him look good for people he likes.  And the only way you’ll know for sure who he likes is if you talk to him about it.”

Jean sighed for the umpteenth time and ran his fingers through his short blond hair, “But if I talk to him about it, he’ll laugh it off and say I don’t have to do anything.”

“Maybe you don’t.  It’s better to not get him dates that he doesn’t want than to bombard him with dates he still doesn’t want.  That’s just asking for awkwardness and hurt feelings.”

Jean sat up and hunched over his knees, covering his face in his hands.  “This is actually a horrible idea, isn’t it?”

“The way you had planned? Yeah.  The motive, no.

“What’re you two talking about so seriously down there?”

Jean and Connie both jerked at the sudden interruption.  Sasha had found them and now she was bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently.

“Why didn’t you guys wait until I got back from my meeting?  I would’ve played too!”

“We’ll invite you next time,” Connie laughed and pulled himself to his feet.  Jean couldn’t tell if the way he draped his shirt over either shoulder as he stretched was strategic or genuine since the bright sunlight highlighted the sweat on his abs.

“Well anyway,” Sasha seemed satisfied by the promise and now she focused her impatience on Jean.  “Marco and I were wondering where you guys were and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”  At this, Jean glanced guiltily at his sports bag hiding his silenced phone within it.  “Stop worrying Marco and let’s go.  If you two shower your stinky b. o. off then we can all get dinner.”

Jean climbed to his feet, fanning his shirt collar.  A whiff of his sweat hit him and he wondered briefly how he was going to adjust to the collective b. o. of a whole new basketball team.

* * *

 

When he got back to the dorm to grab his shower caddy, the room was dark with the window shades down.  He tried to sneak in without disturbing his roommate, but a dark head of hair shifted as the door creaked and let in a sliver of dim light from the hall.

“Mmmrph,” the dark shape groaned and bleary eyes peered up at him.  “Where’d you go?”  In the current lighting, Marco’s tired face resembled the black and white Godfather poster Jean had hanging on his side of the room.

“Me and Connie just played some basketball.  He wants me to join the team, too,” Jean chuckled.

“Well that’s not surprising,” Marco gave him a tired smile while he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.  “You’re really good.”

“Same to you,” Jean grinned, ruffling Marco’s bed-head. 

Marco gave a squeak of surprise at the sudden motion and Jean frowned in concern.  “How’re you feeling anyway?”

Marco sighed and crinkled his nose as he leaned his back on the wall behind his bed.  “Well I was feeling better so I tried to do some work.  Now I have a headache for a totally different reason,” he groaned.

Jean smiled, “Well, dinner might help.  Sasha commanded me and Connie to shower first though.”

“Well then get your sweaty hands out of my hair and go shower,” Marco shook his head slightly, dislodging Jean’s hand with a laugh.

Hearing Marco chuckle comforted Jean.  He was his best friend after all, what did he have to be concerned about?  If he said that he wanted to help him, then Marco would tell him how to do that.  It should be easy to tell him about his wingman idea.  A total snap, easy conversation.  Connie would be impressed by how quickly Jean had acted on his advice.  Excitement bubbled in his veins and he practically sang in the hall shower.  This would be absolutely no big deal.

A week had passed and Jean was beginning to see that maybe he was making this a big deal.  As long as the two roommates were alone together, the right time for the conversation never seemed to come up. 

There was always homework to do (Not that Jean was known for being particularly proactive on finishing it early) or just plain better things to talk about.  But waiting on having the conversation was not making it any easier.

Connie would not let the conversation get any easier either.  While it was a hard topic to bring up with Marco, every moment that Jean found himself alone with Connie, he’d ask about his progress.

“Did you talk to him yet?” Connie asked for what seemed like the hundredth time, sliding beside Jean into his seat for Calculus.  The room was largely empty and from their seats in the back of the room, Jean had a clear view of the empty teaching podium.  They were fifteen minutes early, but even then the room was emptier than usual.

Jean slumped forward against his desk, carding his hands through his hair, making it stick up in more flyaway angles.  “No,” he sighed, too embarrassed to look at Connie.  Some best friend he was.  He couldn’t even tell his best friend that he wanted to repay a favor. 

“Dude,” Connie sighed, frowning at the side of Jean’s face that was left visible.  “It’s not like _you’re_ asking him out.  Just talk to him.  You’ve talked about this sorta stuff before, right?  It’s no different.”

The professor walked in before Jean could respond.  The rest of the class had arrived without him noticing and it was about time for class to start.  Yeah they had talked about girls before, but for some reason it felt different now.  Jean simply couldn’t figure out why it suddenly seemed so taboo to bring up.  Was it the new environment?  Living together?

The next thing Jean knew, the professor was dismissing class and their homework was written on the board.  Other students were streaming past his desk on the way out.  Had he really just zoned out through the entire class thinking about his plan?  He needed to just get this conversation over with.

Connie stood up next to him to place his books in his bag, ready to join the dispersing crowd.

“Connie…” Jean whined while putting his head on his desk, “Can you teach me what we just learned?”

Connie shifted his bag on his shoulder impatiently.  “Sure,” he sighed.  “I’ll teach while we eat lunch.”  The smile that spread across his cheeks made Jean a little uneasy.  “Under one condition of course.  No phones while I teach.”

Jean sighed.  Their professor was a hard grader and their first exam loomed on the horizon.  He really wasn’t in the kind of standing where he could object to Connie’s stipulations.  He threw his notebook in his backpack and stood up.

He slid his phone out of his pants pocket and passed it to his shorter friend reluctantly.

The grin widened and Jean let out an even heavier sigh.  Connie was a good friend but there were times when Jean felt like he had signed a Faustian deal for his help.

It was really no surprise when Jean glanced up mid-lesson to see Connie texting on _his_ phone, its familiar red case looking back at him.

“Do I even want to know how you figured out my passcode?”

“Dude, it’s your birthday.  Like I said before, you’re really not slick.”  Connie continued texting without glancing up at Jean.  “And I don’t see you finding any derivatives right now.”

Jean harrumphed but got back to work.  Connie was helping him out by teaching him, so whatever future awkwardness he was creating was probably worth the cost of not failing.

Jean got back into his rhythm and continued working until Connie put down his phone and hummed contentedly.  He took a bite of his sandwich and smiled after chewing.

“You’re so lucky that I’m your friend.  I’m re-teaching you what you should have learned an hour ago and I’m fixing your people problems at the same time.”

Jean’s pen stilled.  “What did you say to Marco?”  Tension formed between his shoulder-blades as he quickly glanced up at Connie.

“Just setting you up for the conversation you’ve been putting off since last Saturday.”  Connie held Jean’s phone out in front of his face, within sight but most likely not within reach considering the smaller boy’s quick reflexes.

The conversation itself wasn’t too incriminating:

 **Me** :  hey dude, ive got a great (maybe not) idea in the works… and i need to talk to you about it?

 **Marco** :  What is it?  Is this why youve been so distracted lately?

Jean sighed.  Connie simply shrugged, “Well we both know he’s not stupid.  Especially when it comes to you.”

 **Me:** Well, its probably easier to explain in person. U busy when i get out of lunch with connie?

 **Marco:** Nope :) i’m all yours

Jean’s heart began to pound a bit upon reading Marco’s last text.  There was no more putting it off.  Looks like the conversation was happening whether he was ready or not.

A sudden smack on his forehead broke Jean away from his thoughts.  Connie held his notebook up in front of his face, his messy scrawl staring out at Jean from the pages that had just assaulted him.

“Hey.  Math now, worry later.”  Connie smiled and locked up Jean’s phone with a click.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea that it would take me this long to update!! Sorry about that. This past semester hit me like a ton of bricks. I hope it was somewhat worth the wait though. I'll be trying to update more regularly over the summer.
> 
> Thanks to my beta Shiika777 for ensuring quality.
> 
> As always let me know what you think. :) You can also reach me at my tumblr 
> 
> I also have some drawings that I did for chapter one here: http://dat-heichou.tumblr.com/post/113663121891/oh-lord-they-even-found-the-pictures-his-sister


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean loses control of a lot of conversations.

The worry did indeed hit him later.  Jean paced outside his dorm door, trying to find the right words before seeing Marco.  Yet the longer he paced, the more concerned he was that Marco would hear his lingering footsteps and come to the door. 

Connie had given him the explicit directions that once he talked to Marco, he would have to tell Connie what he had said so that he would know how to help with Jean’s wingman idea.  His offer to help was nice, but it put additional stress on the conversation, too.  The conversation had to go well in order for Jean to tell him _anything_.

The quiet click of the door opening stopped Jean in his tracks mid-pace in the hallway.  He looked up to see Marco leaning against the doorframe with a curious look in his eyes.

“Is there some reason why you’re not coming in?”  A playful grin lit Marco’s face as he blocked the small doorway with his body.  He used his height to grin down at Jean, “You’re distracted again.”

“Uh yeah,” Jean answered eloquently.  His attempted laughter came out strained and awkward so he half-heartedly covered the noise with a cough instead, hiding half of his face behind his fist.

Marco raised an eyebrow before opening the door wider and taking a step back to let his roommate in.  “Well why don’t you come in and tell me what’s got you thinking so hard.  Something seems rather um, distracting.”

Jean let out a heavy exhale as he followed his roommate through the doorway.  Marco had hopped up on his bed, which was lofted high enough for even his long legs to dangle above the floor.  He patted the blankets next to him, a quiet invitation for Jean to join him.

Jean crawled up and they spent a few moments sitting side-by-side in silence.  Marco waited patiently while Jean watched their legs hang off the edge of the bed, thinking of how to begin. After a few minutes, weight on his right shoulder distracted him from his trance.  Marco’s hair panned out on his shirt and his voice was muffled against his skin.

“Earth to Jean-bo. You’re off in your thinking space again.  Care to tell me what about?”  Marco’s voice had a song-like cadence in jest, but his smile was open and welcoming.

“Oh… well,” Jean laced his fingers together and stared intently at them, “Just you know, there’s so many new people here on campus.  It’s a little weird isn’t it?”  Jean scrambled to find words, figuring to start vague was at least an opener for the conversation.

“Yeah, it is weird.” Marco straightened up his back a bit, angling his upper body so he was facing Jean better.  “But you know,” he continued, “It’s an opportunity to be different here too.  You can be who you want without being held back from the past perceptions people had of you.”  He stopped for a moment, making eye contact with Jean as his smile softened.  “It’s not your social anxiety is it?  Are you doing all right with the people in your classes?”

“Huh? Oh I’m fine.  Connie and Sasha are actually helping a lot with that stuff.”  Jean let out a small smile as he ducked his head down meekly, “Thanks for introducing me to them.”

Marco ruffled Jean’s hair roughly, forcing him to look up at him again.  Jean pushed his lower lip out in a pout as his hair pointed out in all directions like the spines on a cactus.  “Hey,” he smiled, “I may have said a few good things about you, but after that it was all you.  You made them want to be friends with you.  My words only go so far.”

_Sometimes I wonder about that,_ Jean internally disagreed but accepted Marco’s words, trying to get back to the point.

“But yeah, there’s so many people here.”  Jean toed off his shoes and tucked his legs up underneath him on the bed, trying to look as calm and casual as possible.  “And we haven’t really talked about our impressions about a lot of people.”  He glanced quickly at his friend’s reaction before quickly adding, “Like pretty girls for instance.”

“Oh?”  Marco leaned forward toward him, a knowing smile alighting on his lips.  “Is there someone you want to talk about then, hmm?”

Jean blanched as he realized that the conversation was going in the opposite way than he planned.  He coughed dryly before trying to shift it back, “Actually I was wondering if you did.”

“Me?” Marco crinkled his nose in thought, a slight frown replacing his previous smile.  “Well I don’t know Jean, I haven’t really noticed…”

“Aww come on Marco,” Jean sighed in frustration, pulling his legs tighter to his body with his arms and rocking back slightly.  “We’ve always talked about who I like or who I think is hot, but we never talk about you.”  His eyes locked onto Marco’s and for a minute they were dark and unreadable.

“Well, sure there are pretty girls, but it’s not like I really like any of them,” Marco laughed in a higher pitch than he normally did before continuing on, “so it’s not worth talking about right now.”

“If you did, though,” Jean leaned closer, trying to get a better read of Marco’s eyes.  “Would you tell me?”

Marco laughed and smiled openly, the tension receding from his shoulders.  “Of course, Jean.”

“Because I was thinking,” Jean inhaled, mentally preparing himself to finally get to the point of the conversation, “that to pay you back for all the dates you helped me get in high school, I’d help you get some now.”  He glanced up to see a blank and unreadable look that looked out of place on Marco’s face and hurried on, “I mean, you deserve the best and I want to help you find her.  I mean, it’s the least I can do…”

“You really don’t have to worry about it Jean, really.”  Marco seemed to shrink slightly, withdrawing his arms to his lap.  He glanced away toward the wall for a minute, hiding a darkness in his eyes that could almost be sadness.

Jean furrowed his eyebrows.  _This aversion to the topic really isn’t like Marco_.  “Why not, Marco?  I just want to pay you back.”

“But you don’t need to!  Friendships aren’t about balancing out the checkbook of favors.  You don’t have to give an eye for an eye.”  Marco let out a shaky  breath, his cheeks reddening from his outburst.  Jean froze, caught off-guard by this reaction.  _This is definitely not how the conversation was supposed to go,_ he thought.

Even Marco seemed a bit surprised by his earlier response, so he took a minute to recompose his face, closing his eyes and relaxing his tense jaw.   He took another deep breath before continuing, calm once again, “I mean, you already do a lot for me, Jean.  There’s no reason why you need to pay me back because you already do so much for me.  You understand?”  Marco's dark eyes settled on him, searching for Jean's answer.

For a few seconds, Jean was at a loss for words.  "I...I didn't realize it would seem like I was treating our friendship like a... business contract or something. I'm sorry..."  He folded his arms in front of himself and pulled them toward his chest, feeling like this time _he_ should grow smaller.  Guilt welled up in his chest and made it impossible to look back up at his best friend.  _Am I not good at this friendship thing after all?  I guess I don’t understand--_

Marco leaned forward and tentatively placed his hand on top of Jean’s shoulder, its gentle weight familiar and comforting enough to convince Jean to look back up at him.  "I know... and I'm sorry too.  I know what you meant.  And it was sweet of you, really."  He stopped and looked down at his hand after that, as though internally searching for the right words to continue.  "But... I guess... dating is a touchy subject for me right now.  So yeah, you definitely don't need to worry about hooking me up with someone, alright?"  He looked up with a small smile on his full lips that widened when he saw he caught Jean's eye.  "But you know," he added as he gave Jean's shoulder a light squeeze, "I'll always be here to help you with that sort of thing."

Jean swallowed thickly.  Of course somehow it would get turned around like this.  "Okay.  But whenever you want any help with that stuff, let me know.  I want to help you out."

Somehow Marco's smile grew even brighter (Jean was sure there was some sort of magic in his best friend's smiles; every time you thought they were as big and bright as they could possibly be, the boy found a way to amp them even more).  "Of course, Jean.  I'll tell you when I'm ready, I promise." 

* * *

 

**Sexy**   **Springer** : so the wingman plans off then?

**Me** : not off. Just on hold for a while. He said hed tell me when hes ready

**Sexy Springer:** ...but do you know why he feels weird bout couples stuff?

**Me:** well idk. theres something it might be but... its hard to talk about yno?

**Sexy Springer:** ...my big brain tells me that I havent unlocked that lvl of friendship yet

**Me:** nope. keep working for that one :P

Jean flopped back on his bed, looking over his text conversation with Connie.  It was a relief to finally be able to tell him _something_ even if it wasn't anything concrete. 

His lips tugged downward as his eyes settled on certain words. _If it’s what I think it is, then that will be a truly messy conversation_ _._ He chewed on his lower lip as he contemplated, _he should tell me. Right? That's best friend level importance, right? Is that something he needs to talk through?_

Before he could get trapped too deep in his thoughts, the lanky teen was distracted by his phone starting to vibrate in his hand.

He sat up as his fingers brushed the answer button and he held the phone up to his ear without registering the caller. It was about time he got a call from home anyway.

"Hi there Jean-bo," a familiar yet un-expected voice sang, “Happy Wednesday!"

Jean pulled back his phone to see the contact **Hitch the Bitch** in disbelief. "Sis? What's got you calling on a Wednesday?"

"Good news Hun!  Guess who found out their Friday classes are canceled this week!"

Jean could hear the smile in her voice and he could barely keep the jealousy out of his.  "So you're calling to brag now? That's sorta new," he deadpanned.

"No, no, Jean-bo, you misunderstand me!  I'm calling to tell you to find a place for me to crash this weekend.  I'd prefer to use Marco's bed, since his sheets are probably cleaner, but guests can't be too picky, after all."

"What?" Jean's brain seemed to be moving too slowly to process what Hitch was saying.

"You guys used to share beds all the time when he stayed over, so it’s not a big deal, right?  Though dorm beds are smaller..."

"Hitch, are you inviting yourself over?"

"Uhuh!" She chirped back.  "I figured with a day off and low workload early in the semester, I should come check on my boys and meet their new friends!" She seemed to slow down a bit, concern finally infiltrating her words. "That is, if you guys don't have too much work to do this weekend."

As if on cue, Marco walked back in their dorm room, toting a bag from the campus store.  He slipped out a pack of wintergreen Tic Tacs to put on Jean's desk.  After being friends for so long, it was common knowledge that they helped keep Jean calm and concentrated during late night homework sessions.

"Hitch is on the phone," he whispered and Marco grinned, hopping up on the bed besides him. Jean hit the speaker button on his phone screen and his roommate leaned over his shoulder.

"Heya Hitch!" Marco smiled.

"Hi Mar-Mar!  How's my favorite Disney prince doing?"          

"I'm doing well,” his smile did that magic thing where it somehow managed to get even brighter again, “What's up?"

"Hitch wants to stay with us this weekend," Jean interrupted.  He felt only mildly guilty for butting in, but they could talk for hours without getting to the point (she was always so much more polite to Marco, but with Jean she just was as blunt as always. Well he was blunt too, but that wasn’t the point here). And besides, if she wanted to talk to Mar-Mar, she could have called _him_.

"Really?" A bigger smile marked Marco's face. "I'd love that! Is that okay with you, Jean?"

"Yeah, that works."  Excitement and worry began churning together in his gut, but he pretended not to notice.

A high pitched squeal of happiness came from the other line.  "Yay! I've got to go, but I'll see you boys some time on Friday. Bye, love you!!"

Jean and Marco barely got out a 'you too' before she hung up. Always a whirlwind she was.

"Well, this weekend should be fun.” Marco smiled at Jean, excitement making his cheeks pink.  Jean simply pushed his lower lip out in a pout in response and the taller boy laughed and leaned forward to muss his hair.  "Oh come on, you love your sister," he pointed out between chuckles.

Jean pouted even harder and Marco laughed again, switching his source of amusement to squishing Jean's cheeks with his fingers. "You and your sister are so close, it’s cute."  His eyes twinkled with mischief as he added, "Remember when you were 14 and walked to WalMart to go buy tampons because she ran out and was trapped in the bathroom without them?"

"... I still can't believe she told you that story."

"She said it proved to her just how much you loved her," Marco laughed. "It’s sweet."

"You've bought her tampons and stuff too," Jean looked away in embarrassment.

"I've picked some up for her when she needed them, yeah. But I could drive then, so it was a lot easier." Marco laughed.  "Just admit that you guys are close.  It's cute. I'm a little jealous."

'Why? She's adopted you as her 'better' brother since we were like 12."  While Marco laughed harder (the kind of laugh that always made Jean want to smile because Marco couldn't help but snort through his nose), Jean added in, "Oh, and she wants to use your bed because she figures it'd be cleaner."

Once Marco had calmed his giggles enough to talk again, he responded, "Oh I should probably change to the blue sheets for her. They're softer."

"Don't spoil her," Jean groaned, flopping backwards dramatically on his bed again. "Then she'll expect more of me."

"Too late," Marco laughed, poking Jean in the side where he knew he was the most ticklish and earning some high squeals of complaint in response as Jean tried to jerk out of reach. "She already expects the world of you."

* * *

 

As one could expect, Sasha and Connie were thrilled to hear that Hitch was coming to visit.  Sasha was especially pumped, wanting to plan something fun to impress the older woman.  Like another makeup night.

"Oh hell no," Jean grumbled over dinner Thursday night as they were discussing weekend plans.  "Then you'll decide to do something stupid like each of you doing half my face or something.  I'd like my face to look like it goes together, thank you very much."

Connie squinted at him dramatically. "Dude I think you have a problem then."  He flashed a snarky grin before stage whispering, "Your hair is totally two different colors."

"Shut up." Jean was _not_ blushing. Nope. Nu uh.

"It suits you, Jean," Marco smiled from the seat next to him. Just as Jean started to relax, his best friend leaned forward conspiratorially and added, "In fact, you might actually be able to pull off mismatched makeup."

Jean groaned and buried his head under his arms at the table, nearly putting his hair in a glob of stray mashed potatoes.  Sasha giggled at the prospect. "I changed my mind," he growled from between his arms, "none of you are allowed around my sister. I'm revoking family privileges, Marco."

Marco just leaned forward with his elbows on the table, eyeing Jean skeptically from beside him. "Hmm, that sounds like something that requires a family vote there.  Not in your power."

"I was the one who brought you home the first time; yes it is in my power." Jean lifted his head just high enough to shoot a frustrated glare over Marco's way above his crossed arms.

"It sounds like Marco's staking his claim on the in-laws," Connie laughed and Jean turned his frustrated glare onto him next.

"Your families sound so close," Sasha chirped. "I can't wait to see those old photo albums Hitch said she was bringing with her."

_Oh hell no.  She is not bringing those._   Jean buried his head again and let out a muffled groan.  T minus 20 hours until Hitch got there. Jean just hoped he would survive the weekend.

* * *

 

Jean woke up on Friday morning with anxious butterflies battling for dominance in his stomach.  Hitch was coming today.  How on earth was this going to go well?

“Jean, if you want breakfast before your 9 am, you need to get up.”

The blonde cracked an eye open to see his roommate fully dressed for the day, standing over his bed.

“I’m not ready for today.  I’m going back to sleep.”  Jean tried to roll back over but instead was distracted when he felt arms sneaking under his covers. 

“Marco…”

“You should really get up, Jean.”  He could _hear_ the smile in Marco’s voice even as his fingers brushed against Jean’s sides.

“No!”  Jean wriggled in a helpless attempt to get away from the tickle attack, trapped by his own traitorous blankets knotting themselves around his legs.  A short struggle later, laughter filled the small dorm room as both its occupants struggled to keep their voices down.  When they finally declared a truce, the two struggled to catch their breaths.

“I’d love to get up,” Jean smirked, red in the face from his laughter, “but I’m sort of tied up at the moment.”

“Oh, I can easily fix that,” Marco chuckled as he harshly ripped back the blankets, leaving Jean to face the loss of warmth as he was suddenly left out in the open air.

“Marco!” Jean whined in an embarrassingly high pitch, “You can’t just do that!  I’m in my boxers!  It’s—it’s _indecent!”_

Marco simply shrugged and turned away to prepare his bag for class.  “Dude, it’s just me.  You’ve slept in your boxers since you were 15; I really don’t care.  Besides, you have a shirt on.”

“Fine,” Jean pouted, pursing his bottom lip as he jumped out of bed and wrangled a pair of jeans over his wiry legs after a quick glance at his phone clock.  _Looks like a shower would have to wait until after class,_ he thought.  “But don’t you pull that kinda shit when Hitch is here.”

“Yeah, that’ll be her job.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Jean groaned as he pulled a black shirt over his head and took the sweatshirt Marco offered to him. 

“You aren’t excited that she’s coming?” Marco asked as Jean hooked his backpack over his shoulder and locked the door behind them.

“Well… sorta,” Jean sighed as they sped walked to the cafeteria, trying to keep his steps brisk to keep up with Marco’s longer stride.  “Just…nervous, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marco sighed as he flashed him a quick smile of understanding and hopeful reassurance.

Together, the two teens walked in comfortable silence until they settled in with the breakfast crowd in the campus cafeteria.  They ate quickly with little time for conversation (Jean _had_ been slower rising than usual) and soon they were cleaning up their dishes to rush off to class.  Before they parted ways (Marco’s psych class was in the opposite direction as Jean’s U.S. history class), Marco stopped to grab his shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, Jean.  Have a little faith in Hitch,” he smiled.  Before Jean could respond, the weight against his shoulder was gone and Marco had already rushed off.

They say if you begin the day in a rush, then you feel like you end up running to keep up all day.  As Jean threw his notebook into his bag and darted out of his last class of the day as soon as dismissed, only offering Connie a quick “Later,” he certainly felt rather ragged and worn out.  He jogged over to the main parking lot, pulling out his phone to see the steady stream of text notifications. 

Judging by the time stamps, Hitch had arrived about a half hour earlier and now she was bored in the parking lot.  Bored Hitch was never good.

Jean slowed his pace as he came upon a familiar blue truck with a dented tailgate.  He saw the driver throw open her door when he was barely five feet away.

“Jean-bo!  There you are!!” The delighted smile on his sister’s face made him relax and he hastened his pace toward her, anxiety ebbing toward excitement at their time together.  She was busy slipping out of her driving flats, which were a regular presence in all vehicles she drove, and into a pair of dainty heels.

Just as he reached the open door, without warning she launched herself out of the driving seat and into his arms, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“Where were you, Jean-bo?  I didn’t think you’d keep me waiting so long!”

“Class, Hitch.  The whole focus of college.”

“Don’t you sass me,” she poked Jean’s nose in retaliation and laughed as he scrunched it at her touch.

“Come on, the dorm is this way,” he sighed, holding his arm out for her overstuffed duffle bag.

“Onward, pony boy!” she laughed, letting her little brother lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that I didn't get to update more over the summer! Life has been seriously kicking my ass lately. I have part of the next chapter already written, so hopefully chapter 4 will be posted sometime before Christmas.
> 
> Thank you so much to anyone who's still reading this! ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hitch has arrived and she makes herself at home.

If Jean was tired when he picked Hitch up, well he was exhausted now.  Carrying both his books and her clothes was one thing, but ignoring all the seedy looks his sister was receiving was something else entirely.

When he had opened his mouth to retort the first time, Hitch had stopped him.  “Oh, let them look, Jean-bo.”  Her short skirt seemed to ride higher up her legs with each step she took.  “If they say something, then you can help scare them off all you want.  But right now, I’m handling it.”

So he didn’t say anything.  But biting his tongue was exhausting and he was just so _done_ by the time they climbed up the stair to his dorm room.

“Where’s Mar-Mar?” she asked as Jean kicked the door open, settling both bags by his desk.

“Well,” Jean said, checking his texts to reread their conversation.  “When he got out of class, he did laundry so you’d have clean sheets, so right now… he should be in the shower.”

“Well,” she said, popping open the clasp on her purse, “I guess I’ll do present time now, before I forget.”  She pulled a handful of condoms out of the side pocket and slid them into Jean’s top desk drawer before grabbing another handful to put in Marco’s desk.

“Hitch!”

“What?!  My boys need to be safe and keep their sausages under wraps!”  She glared at her brother and put her hands on her hips.  “Besides, they’re ribbed, so they feel pretty good.”

“Hitch!!” Jean’s face lit up brighter than the fluorescent light on the ceiling of the small room.

She shrugged and pulled out his desk chair to sit in, crossing her legs at the knees.  “It’s not like I’ll need my stash anytime soon, anyway.  I just broke up with my boyfriend and I’m hoping to stay away from genital encounters.”

“I’m sorry, sis,” Jean’s pink face softened in sympathy and she waved a hand to brush him off.

“Nah, I’m much better off without his sorry ass anyway.  I just figured hanging out with my favorite babies would be a good distraction to keep me from rebounding." 

“Oh,” Jean ran a hand through his hair, not knowing what to say to that.  “Well, I hope it helps keep your mind off of things…”

His sister leaned forward to pinch his cheeks between her fingers.  “I’m fine, Jean.”  Her voice held no room for questioning and after a beat she smiled again as she released her hold on his face.  “So how are you?”

He hopped up on his bed and tucked his legs under him. “Classes are fine, so far.  Connie and Sasha are fun.  And Marco is Marco.”

“So, Disney prince is princely?”  Hitch grinned and Jean nodded.

“Yeah, but… something was sort of off the other day.”  He told his older sister about his matchmaking plan (some secret _that_ was turning out to be) and Marco’s strange reaction to it.  Hitch’s mouth pinched downward in a frown as he elaborated.

“So do you think it has to do with—“

“I can’t tell you anything for sure, Jean-bo,” she cut him off with one of her rare soft smiles, “except that if it’s important I’m sure he’ll tell you about it.  Even if it takes a while.”

“Yeah…” Jean sighed, slightly disappointed about her evasive answer.  “Does he ever go to you for advice?”

“All smart people do, Jean-bo.”

Jean frowned down at her, tempted to call her out on another non-committal answer, when his roommate, dressed but slightly damp from his shower, walked back into the room.

“Hitch!” Marco smiled, quickly engulfing the older woman into a tight hug.

“Mar-Mar!!” she giggled, squeezing him as much as she could from her seated position.  “Dry your hair, its dripping on me,” she whined.

“It’s okay Hitch, only _evil_ witches melt in water,” Jean laughed from his high perch on his bed.

Marco pulled back from the embrace and shared a devious glance with Hitch before turning back to face his roommate.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jean warned, leaning back further on his bed to get away from his twin tormentors.

“Sic him, Marco!” Hitch laughed and Marco slowly approached Jean’s bed, shaking his head when he got close enough so that droplets littered Jean’s skin.

“Really, Marco,” he tried to stay disapproving at their ridiculousness, but failed in preventing a smile from escaping, “I am a decent human being, do I really deserve this?”

Hitch and Marco shared a glance with each other, their smiles widening further as their eyes met.  “It’s only because we love you,” Hitch laughed again, as they both continue to approach his bed.  Marco climbs up first, helping Hitch shortly afterward.  Jean huddles up with his back against the wall, feeling the bed wobble slightly with the new addition of their weights.  Before he can think too deeply on whether he should be afraid his rickety dorm bed will break or not, he finds himself crushed by their joint weight in a massive hug, Marco’s wet hair continuing to drip on both of them.

Hitch tightened her old on both of them, “I missed you guys.  Look at you guys getting on in the world without me to protect you.”

“We’re fine, Hitch,” Jean whined, trying to wriggle out of the hold enough so that their arms were no longer constricting.  It’s a losing battle because Marco’s strong arms are pinning him to one place, and Hitch’s more slender ones brush against those ticklish sides of his.

“You guys better be, or I’ve got some ass to kick,” she kisses both of their foreheads, leaving bright pink lipstick smears in her wake.  “No one messes with my baby brothers, you hear, no one!”  Her hands move to settle more on Jean’s waist before running her fingers up his ticklish sides.  Jean let out a high pitched squeak, trying to get away, only to get pulled down in Marco’s lap.

As they giggle and squirm, the small dorm starts to really feel like home for the first time.

* * *

 

For as exhausting as Hitch could be, no one knew Jean as well as she did.  It came with the territory of knowing him for his entire life.  Hitch, who ate up times of fully charged excitement, understood that the best way for her to get into Jean’s new college life was to do it through a relatively calm night in.

Which is how Sasha, Connie, Hitch, Jean, and Marco ended up crowded together in Jean and Marco’s cramped dorm room, relaxing over pizza and Disney movies on Netflix.  Unsurprisingly, Hitch adored Sasha and Connie, and openly expressed that in her mind, her boys couldn’t have found better friends.

Jean found it a little weird how easily things seemed to work out.  Hitch hadn’t been there five hours yet, and here she was braiding Sasha’s hair while swapping puns with Connie like she had known them for five years.  Considering both Kirstein siblings had the capacity of being rather abrasive, Jean had to wonder if it was something in Sasha and Connie themselves that let them be so likable.  Whatever it was, he certainly didn’t know how it worked, but he was glad it did.

They were watching _The Emperor’s New Groove_ , when Connie mumbled an observation over a piece of pizza.  “You know, Kuzco and Pacha could almost be Jean and Marco.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?  I’m not _that_ bad!!” Jean exclaimed, sitting up from where he was previously leaning against Marco’s shoulder.  Hitch and Sasha are too busy laughing at Connie’s suggestion to hear his complaint.

“Oh, I can just picture you guys going down a waterfall like that,” Hitch breathes, tears leaking out of her eyes from laughing so hard. 

“Small and snarky and Mr. Tall and Kindhearted, I think it works pretty well,” Connie smiles back at them, ruffling Jean’s hair as he pouts.

Marco simply laughs at the whole display, admitting that Jean is more like the Kuzco at the end of the movie than anything.

“Fine, but if I’m Kuzco, Connie is Kronk,” Jean sighs, settling back into Marco’s side.  He’s tired of being laughed at and figures it’s time to accept it.

“We should dress like that for Halloween!” Sasha contributes, her smile filled with joy.  “I can be Yzma." 

The boys collectively groan at that thought.  Jean could swear that he heard Connie mumble “You’re too pretty to Yzma,” but he couldn’t tell if Sasha heard it or not.

The movie continues and it gets to the scene of Kuzco being introduced to Pacha’s family.  Jean supposes that that _is_ the kind of family Marco would end up with, full of love and happiness and rambunctious little bundles of joy.  At the same time, it feels weird to picture Marco with a wife and children of his own.  Jean thinks about it, knowing that he would inevitably be that weird surrogate uncle without a family of his own that would visit more often than not.  He gets distracted from the movie, wondering why he feels so strange picturing Marco married.  _I guess it’s because he hasn’t really dated anyone yet.  Once I hook him up, then I’ll be able to picture it better.  I’ll see what love-struck Marco looks like._

* * *

 

Jean wakes to Hitch’s giggles early in the morning and the clicks of her phone taking pictures.

“What’d you wan’?” he grumbles, huddling further into his blankets.

“You guys are so precious,” she laughs again and the clicking continues without hesitation.  At this, Jean becomes aware of the arms wrapped snugly around his waist and the weight against his back.

“Marco?” he sighs, peeking over his shoulder to see a mop of dark hair behind him.  His best friend sighs in response, snuggling his face into the back of his neck.  Jean turns back to see Hitch smiling at him, the curve of her mouth gentle in the morning light.

“Let him sleep a little more.  He looks so peaceful.”  She takes one last picture before setting her phone down and gathering one of Jean’s clean towels, Marco’s shampoo, and her own body wash from her bag.  Jean idly notices that she’s wearing the boxers that he gave her last Christmas; the ones that say “Jingle These” above the crotch.  

She heads down the hall to take a shower and Jean closes his eyes again, briefly wondering how many freshmen boys she was going to scare in the bathroom.  He’s close to falling back asleep when the warm body against his back shifts.  Suddenly, there’s something firm brushing against the back of his thigh and Jean is awake for good this time.  He struggles out of his best friend’s hold after a few minutes, surprised to find that Marco is still sleeping soundly even after Jean practically ducked and rolled out of bed.  The only sign of disturbance is the slight huff Marco lets out as he cuddles his face into Jean’s now relinquished pillow.

Jean takes a deep breath to steady himself and try to let his blush fade.  He packs his own shower supplies, and heads off down the hall after his sister. 

There’s a shower already running in the bathroom when he gets there and Jean resigns himself to the fact that Hitch will probably get back to the room before he will.  Actually, that’s preferable.  _It’s better to take my time and let Marco wake up first,_ he decides as he lathers up his hair and lets the warm water beat against his back.

He finds himself daydreaming about Hitch’s possible plans for the weekend before he realizes that it’s been quite a while since the other shower stopped running.

As he walks back down the hall while rubbing his towel through his hair, he hears soft murmurs of conversation behind the door to his dorm room.  _Guess Marco’s awake._

Considering how long they had known each other, Jean hadn’t really thought that the two might have needed a moment of privacy without him.  When their conversation harshly stops and Marco’s wide eyes fix on him as he opened the door, Jean quickly reassesses that thought.

“Uhh, I just need to hang up my towel and grab my toothbrush.  I’ll give you guys a few more minutes.”  He slips through the door, grabbing a clean t-shirt to pull over his chest and wriggling into fresh jeans before he quickly leaving again.

Jean pauses for a moment after closing the door, trying to wrap his mind around what he possibly could have barged in on.  Just as he was about to walk away, he hears Hitch whisper in that tone she used when their parents grounded them as children:  “You really should tell him, Marco.”

Jean hurries back to the bathroom before he can hear anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late and so short!! I wanted to try and get back into this story now that summer is here and I figured I'd update it to show you guys that I'm still alive and writing.
> 
> I'll try to get back into writing longer chapters next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing quality should hopefully get better next time.  
> Please let me know what you think. :)  
> My tumblr is at dat-heichou.tumblr.com


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